


Bora Bora

by ArthurianScribe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, PIERCE Tamora - Works
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Female Harry Potter, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Inspired by Fanfiction, Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles, No beta we die like mne, Rigel Black Exchange, The Pureblood Pretense, The author overuses commas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25230925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArthurianScribe/pseuds/ArthurianScribe
Summary: Based on murkybluematter's fanficiton.net stories:Rigel Black once promised Pansy Parkinson that if she was unhappy with her parents' choice for her spouse all she had to do was ask and he would do whatever it took to help her escape. Well, the time has come for her to take her best friend up on his offer. And if that can be done in a way that protects his cousin Harriet from Riddle's machinations at the same time? Then why shouldn't they pull a mutual Bora Bora?Or, when both Harry and Pansy end up unhappy with who Riddle wants them to marry, they decide the best way to solve both their problems is to elope themselves. For some reason, their friends and family don't exactly respond as well as they had hoped, but some things are worth their price.
Relationships: Archie Black & Harry Potter, Archie Black & Sirius Black, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter & James Potter, Harry Potter & Remus Lupin, Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Hermione Granger/Archie Black, James Potter/Lily Potter, Lily Potter & Harry Potter, Millicent Bulstrode & Pansy Parkinson, Pansy Parkinson & Archie Black, Pansy Parkinson & Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter
Comments: 42
Kudos: 114





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Pureblood Pretense](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/647401) by murkybluematter. 



> While I personally am more of a Leo Hurst/Harry shipper, I had the thought of how scarily effective a team Pansy and Rigel could be and I couldn't get it out of my head. Then I started thinking about how Pansy deserves a partner who understands and respects her the way her friends do and this is the result.

Pansy Parkinson was the perfect purebood daughter.

At least that was what she kept telling herself, as her fingers worried at the letter in her hands until they were stained with black ink. She was grateful that her father’s steady hand had addressed the letter to Pandora Parkinson rather than to Pansy, their private signal that a missive’s contents were better kept discrete. There was little chance she would have been able to hide the strength of the complicated emotions that had waged war within her from Draco or the curious eyes of her Slytherin housemates, but, alone in her dormitory, she could let herself grieve for what would never be and what could very well be to come.

It wasn’t as though Pansy was unaware of how little say she had in the ultimate decision of who she would marry. She had always known that her parents would choose a spouse for her based on what they thought was best for the future of the Parkinson line. 

And as she had prepared to enter her final year at Hogwarts, she had known the decision was imminent. Her parents had actually pulled her aside at the start of the summer after sixth year and pulled out their shortlist of suitors, a list Pansy had only been able to sneak glances at in the past. Rose had taken her hands from where she sat beside her on the sitting room chaise, while her father went through every name on the list, explaining the positives and negatives of each choice and asking for her most honest assessment of each candidate.

At that point, she had been proud that her father thought her judgment shrewd enough to take into consideration on such a crucial part of his duties to the headship she would inherit. The other half of her had been so, so grateful because she knew she was lucky to have parents who genuinely wanted to find a good partner for her, someone who she would be content to spend her days with when it would be so easy to just pick whichever candidate would best fill their coffers, regardless of whether or not Pansy could stand the poor fool. So, she had been hopeful and content with the way her future was progressing when September first came back around for the start of one last school year.

But, as Pansy could see now, it had been she who was the fool to have forgotten the other most crucial factor in a candidates’ suitability.  
Because now it was mid-October and her father was telling her that all that careful planning, all those conversations and reassurances after meeting after meeting with stuffy and arrogant young heirs was being thrown out the window. Instead, Lord Riddle had made up his mind about who Pansy was to marry, and it wasn’t anyone on their shortlist.

Her father’s very penmanship as he wrote the name of the bride to be screamed hesitation, not an emotion people typically associated with Lord Parkinson. But the usually-graceful letters seemed to quake as he explained how flattering it was for someone as influential as Lord Riddle to be so concerned about her future and how Pansy really ought to be grateful for the opportunity being given for her to improve her family’s standing in the eyes of such a great man.

Great man or not, there was a part of Pansy that would rather like to tell Lord Riddle what exactly she thought of his machinations, but, luckily, that part was easily snuffed out by the part of her that preferred being alive, thank-you-very-much. Still, deep within her was a rage burning hotter than a dragon’s flame at the audacity of the letter, at the disrespect, at both the principle of the thing and at the thing itself. Even if it would make things simpler, Pansy was far too intelligent to fall for her own dissembling this time. There was no convincing herself that everything would be fine because it wouldn’t be.

After all, this wasn’t just some halfblood they were talking about. It wasn’t even like it was just a potential suitor who had been rude to her. No, this was Daphne Greengrass that they were talking about her. The same Daphne Greengrass that had left her more miserable than she had ever been all through her first year, who she had written countless letters to both her parents about for advice, who had been disgraced and was lucky to even still have any dowry at all. That was who her father had agreed to marry his only child to, just because Lord Riddle wanted him to. Maybe he had protested, maybe he had been hesitant to go so completely against every promise he had ever made her. She hoped that had been the case.

But the rest of her father’s terse missive made it clear that all that was no longer important. Although he promised they would discuss it over winter break and no sooner, Pansy suspected that, rather than an explanation, her return home would be marked instead by the signing of a marriage contract, perhaps even the marriage itself if he feared she might be uncooperative.

It was unclear at this point if this had always been the plan, or at least a plan. Perhaps the wait for Riddle’s decision was the real reason her father had waited so long to actually finalize an arrangement, rather than an attempt to preserve her childhood like her mother claimed, or in order to make sure nothing changed to dramatically damage a candidate’s suitability between the betrothal and the wedding as Pansy had privately believed.

It didn’t matter anyway. Regardless of why her father had made the decision he did, the choice was made and there would be no persuading Lord Parkinson otherwise. By January she would be engaged to Riddle’s pick, as many other classmates of hers no doubt soon would as well. So much planning. So much cunning. So many promises. All pointless because when he saw the opportunity to improve his standing with Riddle her father had crumpled like parchment in his hand.

Pansy had always been the perfect pureblood daughter. She never whined. She never wailed. She had always been exactly what her parents needed her to be without a single audible complaint. She pushed things down behind a mask, learned to play the game so well that people almost never realized they were playing it until they were right where she wanted them.

She couldn’t push this down. She couldn’t bat her eyes or say the right words until this was okay again. This would never be okay. And if the past six years by Rigel’s side had taught her anything, it was that Riddle wasn’t someone she could reason with. He didn’t care what she thought. Her father apparently didn’t care about her opinion enough for it to matter, so it wouldn’t. It didn’t matter to her. She didn’t care. She didn’t. She didn’t. She didn't.

Pansy Parkinson didn’t have to swallow against the lump in her throat. Pansy Parkinson’s hands weren’t trembling, just the slightest bit, and her smile was not forced or wan. As she set the letter down and rejoined her peers, Pansy Parkinson wasn’t sniffing a little too frequently, and her responses weren’t a touch delayed.

After all, she was Pansy Parkinson, and Pansy Parkinson was the perfect pureblood daughter.


	2. A Difference of Opinion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco really wishes people would stop trying to have meaningful conversations on October 31st. It's impossible enough to keep Rigel out of trouble on Halloween without them making his job any harder.

It really all started on Halloween, because of course it did. It involved Rigel Black, after all.

“Did you hear anything about the attack on Diagon last weekend?” 

Draco looked up from where he was finalizing his Transfiguration essay to make sure whoever had asked such a stupid question understood just how sick and tired he was of talking about the Diagon attack. It was all anyone had been talking about since it happened. Unfortunately, it was Millicent who had asked, and, after seven years of schooling together, she was quite immune to the Malfoy glare by now.

“What I meant,” she corrected with an exasperated eye-roll, “was whether anyone had heard anything new about it. From your parents, I mean.”

Blaise didn’t raise his head from the sheaf of parchment he had been sifting through and taking notes from, but he did that little head tilt he used when he wanted to show he was listening without actually expressing an interest in the subject. Rigel, however, was the one to actually answer.

“Dad says Uncle James thinks they were after someone specific, but he won’t say who the target was, just that I should take care. And when he won’t tell Sirius something, you know it’s bad.”

Millicent gave a knowing nod, as if this were the confirmation she had been waiting for. Lowering her voice as much as she could without it being suspicious, she replied that “My father thinks the rebels were using the attack on the shops as cover for an assassination attempt against Dumbledore.”

Draco scoffed. “Please, they’d have to be mad to go after Dumbledore in the open like that.” And they would. Dumbledore may have been old (and potentially senile, depending on who you asked), but everyone knew he was one of the most powerful wizards alive. “If someone like Dumbledore has time to even draw his wand before you kill him, you’ve already lost!” It was the same reason the 1981 Halloween Accords had been passed in secret. The man was too brilliant to be allowed time to plan, time to fight back.

“And you think the same people who attacked two Ministers of Magic at the World Cup are especially sane?” Draco had to give Millicent that one. Sane was not exactly the first adjective that came to mind.

Blaise hmmd, openly paying attention now. “Not to mention that no one publicly contradicts their message more effectively than Dumbledore. There’s a reason he’s still the Supreme Mugwhump despite Riddle’s best efforts.

“People listen to Dumbledore. As long as he’s alive, he’s a threat. So, if they thought there was even the possibility of taking him out of the equation, while causing some panic in the process…” Blaise let his voice trail off, his meaning clear. Draco knew his own face was as grim as the rest of the group.

“Does anyone want to explain to me what in Merlin’s name would be so bad about that?” Well, almost the whole group. 

Theo was, well Theo was Theo. He had always been rather vocal about his beliefs, but lately he had become less and less willing to hide it when his views on a subject were less than polite. It made it easy to know where you stood with him at any point in time, but it was honestly an embarrassing lack of subtlety. Though, Draco thought ruefully, having one less politician in his generation could really only be an advantage to his own pursuits.

There were several eye-rolls around the circle at Theo’s naivete and a rising tension that was literally palpable to Draco’s empathy, but Draco nearly groaned to see Rigel slowly straighten up with a simultaneously shut down on every emotion he had been allowing himself to project. 

But, instead of coming back with the scathing retort Draco expected, Rigel raised a single eyebrow, face expressionless and snobbish enough to fit right in among the ancient Black heads of house. “You do realize, Theo, that, at the very least, it might by dangerous to young gentlemen such as ourselves if people are really trying to kill our headmaster?” Then, clearly leaning in to the snotty pureblood impression with a comically raised voice and nose, he continued, “I for one, would rather not get my robes singed if I’m standing next to the headmaster when some hooligan starts throwing curses around!”

Draco recognized the game his friend was playing and hurriedly shot in with a drawled, “You might mind the destruction of those monstrosities” he said, with a significant glance at the potions robes, “but the rest of us would have to thank the brigands for sparing our eyes the horror.”

And just like that the tension dissolved just as suddenly as it had risen as the group devolved into a round of childlike giggling that they really should have been too old for. Things were good, Draco reminded himself as he fervently ignored the niggling voice in the back of his head that noticed that Rigel still hadn’t relaxed his shields back to their default. Because things were good, and it was normal for Rigel to be weird about sharing.

Draco was saved from anymore introspection as the laughing tapered off by Theo announcing that he was absolutely done trying to study for the night and was going to go start to get ready for the Halloween feast in a few hours. 

Blaise said something about how it was probably best that he did stop studying, so that he didn’t end up hurting himself.  
Millicent made a quip about Theo needing all the time to get ready as he could get, just as their coarser friend was about to make it out of earshot. And as soon as he was gone…

“Whatever are we going to do about that boy?” Pansy asked, and Draco jumped.

It wasn’t that he had forgotten that Pansy was there of course. After all, it would be completely remiss of a pureblooded gentleman to forget the presence of a lady, particularly when she also happened to be one of his best friends. Draco had just… not been expecting her to speak.

And you could hardly blame him. The past fortnight she had been quieter than she had ever been in her life. No matter how many times Rigel or Draco or even  
Millicent tried to press her on what was wrong, what had their sharp friend passively gliding along like a ghost, she continued to demur and insist that she was fine, just a had a bit of disappointing news. And that might have been that if the behavior had passed after a few days. Instead, it had continued with Pansy alternating between projecting an eerie sort of blankness, like he was seeing her emotions from behind a pane of glass, to crashing waves of bitterness and grief that were so intense they put his teeth on edge. It hurt him to feel, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it and he had finally resolved to give her some space. But now she was speaking, and he had been too caught up in his own internal monologue to pay attention. He hurried to tune back in without making it obvious that he had missed anything at all. 

If the muted pang of amusement he felt Rigel send his way was any indication, he may not have entirely succeeded.

“-not happy with Nott Sr at all. You saw what Nott said to that Prophet reporter, right?” Millicent pressed.

“The one coming out against last season’s round of marriage announcements?” Pansy clarified.

Millicent went to nod, and opened her mouth to elaborate, but Rigel beat her too it.

“Theo’s dad is against the marriage law?”

And Draco’s stomach dropped, because he didn’t need an empathy gift to detect the hopeful tone Rigel had asked that in, and he definitely did not want to start this conversation again. 

Millicent, apparently, agreed because she was hesitant to reply. “Yes,” she said carefully, “but not quite the way your hoping… Lord Nott’s point of view on the matter  
has always been rather similar to his son’s…”

“What, that marrying a halfblood would be disgusting?” And Rigel clearly knew the answer to his own question if the new tightness around his eyes was any indication.

Blaise, however, was electing to appear oblivious to the significant change the subject messages Millicent and Draco were giving off, and he actually responded to the obviously loaded question. 

“From what Mother says, its not so much the marriage law itself that Lord Nott has decided he’s opposed to, but rather Riddle’s self-assigned role in determining what those pairings will be. Supposedly, he’s already made up his mind about the entire seventh year already, and Lord Nott is not pleased with whom he has chosen for Theo, though I doubt anyone has mentioned this to Theo, of course.”

Everyone in their little corner of the common room was paying attention now. It was one thing to know that Riddle would probably have a say in whom you married, but to know that he was dictating that decision personally was a completely different animal. Pansy, in particular, seemed especially stiff as she leaned in as if to wordlessly prompt Blaise to continue.

Rigel’s eyes, meanwhile, squinted in suspicion, as if he already had an idea of where this was going and didn’t like it but couldn’t bring himself to look away. “And who, exactly, is it that Lord Nott is so opposed to marrying his heir?”

Blaise’s expression was one of total innocence, though Draco could have sworn he could still see his usual knowing smirk in the other boy’s eyes.

“Well Theo seems to think he’s marrying Miss Greengrass. Though Mother says that Riddle’s choice was someone who instead was far too independent, and more offensively, far too Light for Nott’s tastes. I, of course, have no idea who that might be, though one could imagine that it must be someone Riddle is quite adamant on controlling if he’s insisting strongly enough that Nott felt that The Prophet was his only recourse.” 

Now, if there was one thing Draco would usually cite as among Rigel’s best qualities it was that he was no fool, regardless of how he might like to play the role when it suited him. Rigel understood Blaise’s implications, as could be clearly seen by the grim set off his mouth and the creeping, sick feeling Draco could feel seeping through his friend’s shields.

Later, he could talk to his friend, help him understand that this wasn’t the disaster he clearly thought it was. But that time was not now. Because Rigel was not exactly known for being rational where Riddle or his cousin came in. Now, that they were both potentially involved, there was no telling what stupid stunt he might pull in the heat of the moment. 

Draco reached out, both with his empathy and his arm, trying to pull Rigel out of where he was retreating behind walls, instead of asking for help. “Rye… whatever you’re thinking I promise its not as big of an issue as you’re worried it is. Let’s just ta-”

“Not as big of a deal, Dray?” Rigel asked, slipping back into that dangerously unaffected tone he was so fond of. That was the moment Draco realized he had chosen his words poorly. “Not as big of a deal? Since when is family not a big deal to a Slytherin, Dray?”

Draco spluttered “That’s not what- I mean, she’s not- I mean-” But Rigel was already shoving books into his bag and rising to go.

“I know exactly what you meant, Draco.” He paused, took a deep breath in. “You guys can head on to the feast without me. I’m going to go brew until I no longer want to set Riddle on fire.” And then he was swooping out of the room in a flurry of black fabric that made it very clear just who his mentor was. 

Their group was quiet for a while, just staring at the closed common room door, until Draco suddenly remembered what day it was with a mumbled curse.

“I can’t believe I just let him go off on his own, today of all days! I better-” And then, because today was apparently “Interrupt Draco Day,” Pansy stopped him.

“I think you better let me handle this one. I’ll keep him out of trouble.” Draco believed her. If anyone was going to be able to get Rigel to see reason, it would be Pansy, he was sure.

Later, looking back on that night, Draco would wryly remind himself that there had always been a limit to even Pansy’s sensibleness if she had been willing to put up with the two of them for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, it took me so long to write this opening conversation. It turned out so long that I decided to make it its own chapter. I actually wrote what comes next first, though, so it shouldn't be too long before I update again, which is good because my classes start again on the 24th.
> 
> I hope you guys like it. Let me know in the comments if you have any questions, especially about the stuff that's happened between this story and Futile Facade.


	3. We Will Not Go Quietly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy plays matchmaker. Rigel questions her life choices.

-0  
[PpPpPp]  
-0

Pansy couldn’t help the small smile that appeared when Rigel stopped and quite obviously stifled what was sure to have been an incredibly dramatic sigh the moment she came around the corner. His situational awareness really had improved these last few years. The little first year she had caught gaping at the Great Hall’s enchanted ceiling would likely have allowed her to get close enough to touch without noticing her approach when worked into this kind of state.

The smile fell, however, when he turned around and she saw his expression. Rigel was an expert at putting on a mask, so to see him look so raw was incredibly disconcerting. She was suddenly very glad she had come in Draco’s place.

“Pan, I’m really not in the mood for another lecture on not crossing Riddle.”

“I know,” she said as she linked their arms together. “I’m here to help you do it.” And if she derived a thrum of satisfaction from leaving her best friend absolutely gobsmacked, well, that was no one’s business as her own.

-0  
[HpHpHp]  
-0

Rigel didn’t say a word until long after they reached the Room of Requirement. This, however, was not for lack of trying. At first it was just because, contrary to what her friends might like to say, she did, in fact, have enough self-preservation to not start a conversation about opposing one of the most powerful men in the country in the middle of a hallway. 

Then, however, it was because she wasn’t really sure how else to respond to the room Pansy’s pacing had conjured.

Rather than the usual empty room and cushion setup, her friend had summoned several large classroom chalkboards and a single desk and chair right in front of them. Pansy’s hold on her arm was more like a deathgrip now as she practically dragged Rigel over to the chair and pressed her into it. “Pan? Wha-”

“Do sit, Rigel,” she said with a sticking charm and what was definitely her scariest smile. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this right, and that means we are going to plan within an inch of our lives. Understand?”

Rigel nodded because she wasn’t an idiot. When Pansy went into planning mode, she was a force of nature. It was best to just go along with it. And, if she was being honest with herself, it would be really nice to have her help on this. “So, what do we do first?”

-0  
[HpHpHp]  
-0

Pansy got right down to business, and Rigel was now really, really glad that the other girl was on her side.

“The way I see it, we’re past the point where a decoy engagement is going to cut it. Harry’s already seventeen, so she no longer has her age as an excuse not to follow through. And at this point, no one believes either of you have any intention of acting on your current contract. So, we need to come up with someone for Harry to actually marry, and once that happens she’ll at least be safe on that front. Do you know if she has anyone in mind who would be a good match?”

“She’s close to the Potions Aldermaster’s son. I know that he would agree if she asked him.” It was true. There was no denying that Leo had been romantically interested in Harry for a long time, and if she was honest with herself, on the rare occasions where she had pictured herself marrying someone it had always been Leo.

“Oh, excellent! Then, we just need to make sure we’re prepared for Riddle’s retaliation. Where’s he most vulnerable?” 

Caught off guard, the “excuse me” that slipped out of Rigel’s mouth was completely involuntary, but that didn’t stop Pansy’s raised eyebrow. 

“We’re about to knowingly and intentionally interfere with a plan Riddle not only put into place but has been open enough about to allow it to be put in a letter. We may get a little leeway if he’s preoccupied by dealing with these extremists, but he’ll have to retaliate somehow if he wants to save face, and if this boy has any serious weaknesses he won’t hesitate to use them, so we need to make sure we have a plan for them.”

Rigel’s stomach plummeted down to her toes as her hands came up to fist into her close-cropped hair. “Oh, Merlin.”

“That bad?” Pansy leaned across the table in front of her, resting her weight on her elbows. 

“He’s the Rogue,” Rigel groaned. “He runs the Court of the Rogues in the Lower Alleys. Manages the businesses, makes sure that his people have what they need to survive as long as they pay their tithe and follow the Court’s rules. It’s not exactly the most legal line of work.”

Pansy hmmd thoughtfully. “And how likely is it, do you think, that Riddle knows about this? How under the radar is this Court?”

“Considering that Leo’s hired Regulus Black for under the table ward work on at least two separate occasions? If Riddle doesn’t know already, he will the second he  
thinks to ask.” 

She sighed. There were so any people who depended on Leo. Rispah, Aled, Krait, Marek, Margo and Clara… These people were her friends, and if Riddle thought it would hurt Harry or one young man who had the nerve to get in his way, he wouldn’t hesitate to twist the knife. 

Whether it was a tip to the Auror department or encouraging malcontents like Claw, Riddle would and could topple Leo’s careful house of cards with just a few words, a few promises to the right, or wrong, people. And then where would the Alley folk be?

“Leo loves Harry, but he would never put his people at risk like that.” He was too pragmatic, too used to self-denial but not so insecure as to be unaware of the good he did in those alleys. “And Harry could never put him in the position where he’d have to make that choice.” It was that dual pragmatism that made the two of them such a good pair, but that left Rigel with a weird pit in her gut.

Pansy tentatively reached for her hand, worried Rigel might resist the touch the way she usually did, but Rigel was suddenly too tired to fight. Pansy’s grip was gentle but, when her fingers tightened Rigel’s eyes were drawn to meet her friend’s steady gaze. 

“I promise you, Rye,” her face as open as Rigel had ever seen it, “Harry is going to be fine. We have this. We just have to keep thinking and we’ll come up with something we can all live with.”

And with that she pulled away to reach for the middle chalkboard. Rigel told herself to ignore how cold her hand felt all of a sudden. But then Pansy was back, presenting Rigel with a piece of chalk.

“Start making a list. Every unmarried pureblood you or Harry knows, whether you think they’re a good match or not. Then, once we’re sure we aren’t going to accidentally overlook someone, we use process of elimination until we know all our options. Let’s get to work”

And they did.

-0  
[HpHpHp]  
-0

“You’re joking right? Because Crabbe and Goyle are both definitely worse than Theo.”

“You said everyone!”

“The minions are not everyone, Rye.”

“I’ll cross them off because I’m not insane but I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what ‘everyone’ means, Pan.”

-0  
[HpHpHp]  
-0

“What about Millicent?”

“No… her parents just finalized an arrangement with that young Belgian ambassador she had her eye on. I’m the maid of honour. I’m pretty sure it would be rude to ask her to break an engagement”

“You’re probably right there.”

“Of course I am.”

-0  
[HpHpHp]  
-0

“I thought you liked Neville!”

“Trust me, I’m crossing him off for his own good. There’s no way I’m subjecting that poor boy to a lifetime with your family.”

“I don’t know if I should be proud of you for protecting a Gryffindor or just insulted on my family’s behalf.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you had met the Marauders. Remember the first day of third year defense?”

“…Okay, yeah, Neville would die.”

-0  
[HpHpHp]  
-0

“What about Weasley?”

“Which one?”

“Any of them?”

“No, their family is too close and Gryffindors besides. Makes them too easy to use against each other, and the oldest sells his services as a cursebreaker in the alleys. I can’t be sure whether or not Riddle knows that.”

“Fair enough. I’ve heard enough rumours about a flying car to be concerned regardless.”

-0  
[HpHpHp]  
-0

“It’s a shame Rosier is already married. I think he’s always been a little bit sweet on you and your cousin.”

“Actually, he did once offer to marry her if she needed the option.”

“That does not surprise me at all.”

-0  
[HpHpHp]  
-0

“I thought you liked your cousin.”

“I do! They’re friends, I swear!”

“Putting a pin in that…do you really want your cousin to be murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange?”

“…I hate it when you have a point.”

“No, you don’t.”

Rigel let out a dramatic, full-body sigh that would have made Archie proud, as she let her forehead fall to the desk surface with an audible clunk. “No, I don’t.

“That was the last name, though. Why is everyone I know either harboring a deep prejudice against a member of my family, or shady enough that I have to worry about Uncle James having to arrest them?”

“I don’t know, maybe because you’re rather shady yourself? And I resent the implication” While her tone was joking, Rigel didn’t miss the crease between Pansy’s brows as she glared at the chalkboards full of crossed out names.

“Ugh, at this rate, Harry may have to just marry you, Pan. Unless you’re secretly running an illicit organ smuggling ring you haven’t told me about.” Rigel thought  
Pansy would laugh, or maybe just ignore her admittedly morbid joke. She was not expecting the way her friend slowly turned her full body to face her, or the intensity of her gaze when she did.

“Repeat that for me?” 

Rigel didn’t think she meant the bit about the organ smuggling, which could only mean- “You’re not serious are you?” Pansy didn’t respond and that was telling enough. “You’re completely serious, aren’t you?”

“Think about it!” Pansy’s hand practically burst forward to grip Rigel’s forearm. “You’re always talking about how similar you and Harry are, and we’re best friends! 

You can’t tell me you don’t think Harry and I would get along, can you?”

“Well, no, but…” 

It was surprisingly tempting to just take Pansy up on her offer right away. Hadn’t she claimed when trying to sell the validity of the marriage contract between Harry and Archie that if she had to marry she wanted it to be someone she was comfortable with, someone already accustomed to her priorities and her lifestyle. 

If there was anyone other than Archie for whom that would be true it would be Pansy or Draco. And true her feelings toward the other two Slytherins had always been a deep bond of friendship rather than romantic but they were practically family already. And didn’t people say you should marry your best friend. Draco had made it very clear on multiple occasions that he completely bought into Riddle’s blood superiority, and as much as it hurt to admit, she couldn’t trust Draco with this. It was too important to risk. 

But Pansy, she had never spoken out against the Party’s propaganda directly, true, but she had never spoken of Harry or her mother and sister with anything less than complete respect, and she had been open to learning more about the newest research on what affect the newness of blood actually had on one’s magic. For the first time, she really, truly wanted to let someone in on the ruse for more than just the convenience. She wanted Pansy to see her, to really see all of her and that was bloody terrifying.

On the other hand, there was just so much Pansy didn’t know. So much she couldn’t know without putting at risk everything she had ever claimed to want. How could Rigel ask her to jeopardize the social and parental esteem she had worked so hard to maintain. Or ask her to give up the list of marriage prospects she had been so satisfied with earning the last time she spoke of it. It was kind of her to offer, but they were Slytherins and she couldn’t very well ask her friend to give up her ambitions just to help her friend’s cousin. It was too big an ask. 

She was honestly surprised Pansy would even suggest something that major, that went against everything she had been raised into unless… well, she could just ask.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember Harry being on your shortlist, Pan. And do you really want to go against Riddle’s wishes so publically?”

Pansy’s eyes flashed, but not at Rigel. “My preferences are apparently no longer of consequence. My father wrote to tell me that Lord Riddle,” here the name was practically hissed through her teeth, “would prefer that I marry Daphne Greengrass.” The other girl took a deep, calming breath, releasing the broken chalk she had clearly forgotten she was holding.

“No, Riddle does not get to come into my life, and ruin years of hard work and then expect me to follow along like a sheep. I’m not going to knowingly sentence myself to a lifetime of misery with Daphne Greengrass when I have other options. I don’t know your cousin well, but I do know you, and I trust your judgement, Rye. If you think that Harry and I would get along and would be able to work together for both our ends, then that sounds like my best option, and I’d ask that you communicate that to Harry for me.” And with a look on her face like she had surprised herself with her own sudden vehemence, Pansy turned the floor back over to Rigel. 

Once again, it was all on Rigel to decide the path of her future, and she really ought to have been an old hat at that by now, but somehow it was still utterly terrifying to meet Pansy’s eyes and say something she had never thought she would.

“Before I say anything to my cousin, Pan, I think there’s really something you should know…”

And so, it began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I knocked out one last chapter before classes start again and I figured I'd put it up now before I forget. Let me know if you have any questions in the comment section.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not exactly sure how long this will end up but I have a lot planned and will update the next chapter once my story outline is a little more fleshed out. Please leave a comment down below!


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